Sydney's North Shore

Lady Cool

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Thu, 23 May 2013 05:46:00 +0000

Her sound echoed across the market: across the lad climbing the tree; across the girl chasing the kelpie whilst dressed as Dora the Explorer; across the nursing mother trying to balance her skinny cap in her left hand; across the grandpa fighting a losing battle with dripping vanilla ice. 'Twas a far cry from a smokey, dark cavern as the bewitching hour approached. But she was a true professional to the end. She kept her cool.

As I age, I really like the music from the late '40s and early '50s. The Ella, the Rosemary, the Peggy, the Sarah. The Damone, the Bennett, the Fisher, and the Como. It speaks of an era totally different, more classy, than that which came next, both musically, and socially. It links with an image of interior design that is Eames, and Parker, and Kofod Larsen.

Ahhhhh ....

Barking brave

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Wed, 22 May 2013 11:10:00 +0000

I guess I am a worry-wort, but ...

The suburb of North Sydney is across the harbour from the CBD and is gentily middle-class affluent. It holds a 'produce market' on the third Saturday of the month in Civic Park, which is between the Stanton Library and the Council Chambers. Surely they know kids climb this tree. I do hope they have cover for all eventualities.

More on the markets tomorrow, before I swan you around another church in this same block.

Stylisticly, a bit of a dogs' breakfast

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Tue, 21 May 2013 10:44:00 +0000

The design of the outside of the church, and the maintenance of its outlyer buildings and vehicular access, as well as gardens, are just terrific. But walk inside ...

I am afraid i was a bit under-whelmed. There are too many stylistic influences. The roof line has lovely wood panelling, but not in keeping with a church. Not MY sort of a church. This is neither modern, nor traditional. The alter was minimalist. The organ and choir stalls were a bit tacked on, and the amplification stuck out a bit like the proverbial.

And the 1896 relics were off in one area and simply did not 'fit'. To me, the knick-knacks were tacky and inferior. It was so good to go outside again. Sorry parishioners, I understand you do not attend to provide a critique of interior decor.

Digging the dirt on the church

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Mon, 20 May 2013 02:40:00 +0000

Once again, St Mary's Roman Catholic Church, corner of Ridge and Miller Streets, North Sydney. From the rear. From the front. And the northern elevation. Yesterday's shot was the southern elevation, meaning I had to open the aperture to shoo away the shade on the south side, meaning that the brilliance of the sky was blown out. Today the sky in all its grandeur.

For a history geek such as moi, the grounds of this church are a godsend [oops], with all its signs and photographs. The grounds are in an immaculate condition, the gardens to die for. This plot of land, the signs tell me, was first granted by the powers that was in 1867, and a church established in a tent. Then a slab timber structure was erected, before a 'freestone church with gothic detailing' was commenced in 1867. This church was enlarged, with more adoration in 1896 enabling a congregation of 600 to be seated. In 1937, a total rebuild was commenced enabling the congregation to swell to 900 parked bodies. The good thing about this new building [ hah ... 'new' ... ], which I very much like the shape and feel of, is that it reused some of the stone, slate, marble, and glass from both the 1896 AND the 1868 churches. And nick-nacks ...

I will take you inside tomorrow.

Sight is physical, vision is mental

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Sat, 18 May 2013 14:00:00 +0000

Whereas sight might indeed be physical, and yes, vision be mental, they are both controlled by the brain. This blog started life as 'Sydney Eye', indeed its URL is still that. But I moved from the inner-city out to the suburbs, and my life circumstances changed accordingly. So I changed the title of this blog to 'Nestling into the Castlecrag landscape', which is what I was doing, and no longer need to do. I am nestled. But being merely human, I wanted the best of both worlds, cakes and eating.

I had crossed the Rubicon, gone from one side of the city, across the harbour, to the other side of the city, even though I only journeyed seven kilometres, it may as well have been to the moon and back. Quickly, I knew that the nestling was occurring in fertile soil, but loam that was all of the same consistency. What I needed, and wanted to share with you, was a soil that was full of organic waste, that had colour, and texture, and diversity. Hence, the title of this blog changed, again, to 'Sydney's North Shore'. Let's see how long this one lasts.

Let's start with St Mary's Catholic Church on the corner of Miller Street and Ridge Street, North Sydney. A church was first constructed on this site in 1868, with the current church having been constructed in 1937.

Old Man Banksia [banksia serrata]

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Fri, 17 May 2013 20:48:00 +0000

Looking like a repository of the wisdom of the ages, this Banksia serrata overlooks The Haven Amphitheatre, the Scarp, Castlecrag. The entire gully is populated with fine examples of Australian bush plantings, like the tree ferns I showed yesterday, and the Angophora costata I showed the day before that.

And so the cycle that started with the Griffins in the late '20s and early '30s persists until this day. People choose to nestle their homes on the sides of gullies surrounded by the sights and sounds of the Australian bush. There are some things that would horrify the Griffins, but others that would delight them.

Muffled drum roll stage right

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Thu, 16 May 2013 14:00:00 +0000

Hugging the sides of a steep gully as it does, the site of The Haven Amphitheatre in The Scarp, Castlecrag, must be a really heart-breaker.

Following the contour down from The Bastion, The Scarp is not particularly steep, and one happens upon this delightful relic totally unheralded. The tree-ferns whisper in the wind, the last remaining run-off trickles over the rocks, and this Griffin creation nestles into the landscape, awaiting its leading lady.

Quiet, please. There's a lady on stage.

Spirited performances in her honour

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Wed, 15 May 2013 14:00:00 +0000

Designed in 1930 by both Walter Burley Griffin and Marion Mahony Griffin, the Haven Scenic Theatre is built around and across one of the many gullies that cut through the peninsuls and take heavy rains down to Middle Harbour. MMG was the more theatrical of the two, it was she who was into producing, into interior design, into community involvement. MMG was involved in production, set and costume design for more than 12 plays at the theatre, but I am unable to locate a list. Both the Griffins were active in music, play reading and discussion groups, tree planting and bushland conservation activities. They lived their ethics and their passions. MMG has been called a 'square bohemian'. She was volatile, yet strict.

Walter died in India in 1937 [from peritonitis], and MMG returned to Sydney briefly, before returning permanently to Chicago. She 'donated' the Haven Scenic Theatre to Willoughby Council, and it went into decline. It stayed that way from about 1950 until 1976, when a dynamic committee was formed to renovate the site, and breathe lifeblood back into theatre in the suburb. The list of 'shows' since then [6commencing with Wilde's 'Salome', and including one concise version of 'Midsummer Night's Dream'], is long and varied, with maybe three shows per year.

The committee runs the theatre side of the venue, whereas Willoughby Council provides the landscape maintenance. It was one of these landscapers to whom I spoke about the spirit of MMG as I sat in reverie on the bleachers.

A spirit that haunts

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Tue, 14 May 2013 20:03:00 +0000

Having been influenced by Frank Lloyd Wright and his 'Prairie school' ethos of architecture and interior design, where life and living is an extension of the natural environment, Marion Mahoney Griffin enthusiastically soaked up the gullies, and rocky outcrops of the Castlecrag Estate that she was developing with Walter Burly Griffin and their Greater Sydney Development Association [GSDA].

The second part of the GDSA development was 'The Haven Estate', centred upon outcrops and gullies immediately to the east of the first estate. The Haven Theatre was more Marion's baby than Walter's. The acoustics of the gully were perfect, and the couple were artistically minded, with an emphasis upon community participation. What better than an open-air theatre for amateur dramatics and soirees.

The Haven - Searching for the spirit of Marion

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Mon, 13 May 2013 12:25:00 +0000

As I eased myself down onto the natural sandstone block, I heard his hobnailed books crunch the leaf-litter, above, but to the right of me.

'Looking for the ghost of Marion', he enquired, a slight wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
'Perhaps, were I a romantic', I riposted.

This may be clutching at straws, but I am looking for Marion's spirit, not her ghost. Judging that to be cutting, I instead threw out a hook about Americans from the mid-west and the quirkiness of their identification with the landscape of Sydney Harbour. And, there ensued a nice snippet of conversation about Frank Lloyd Wright and landscape as the 'other room'.

Marion's spirit is alive and well.

Purveyor of Quality

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Sun, 12 May 2013 13:11:00 +0000

We must be a bunch of carnivores, those of us who live in Castlecrag, with our two butcher shops, plus meat counter at the local independent grocery [IGA].

One butcher shop is within the shopping 'center', and is relatively recent, although its livery tries to convince otherwise. The other is on a street corner, and proudly trumpets that it was estabished in 1936 and is a 'purveyor of quality'. Both home deliver.

Ode to landscape

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Fri, 10 May 2013 21:47:00 +0000

To claim this is typical Australian landscape is just pretentious Sydney waffle. There is no such creature as a landscape typical of a continent so vast. This is not even typical Sydney landscape. However, cast the net more narrowly, and it may be valid to claim this as typifying Sydney Harbour foreshore pre-development. This rocky outcrop surrounded by the gnarled growth of a banksia, is very much the Castlecrag peninsula as it juts out into Middle Harbour.

And this is what so entranced Walter Burley Griffin, Marion Mahoney Griffin, Eric Milton Nicholls, and the investors in the Greater Sydney Development Association [GSDA] of the 1920s. We no longer rob the bush for our own delight, indeed, there are now laws against removal of bush rock. Not only that, but it is a very expensive way to build using this sort of material, requiring masons with specific skill-sets. Newer houses in the estates may ape the design - specifically the flat roof - but have updated the materials used, and the concept of 'nestling' is not uppermost.

The retaining wall is along Turret Walk, and the snippet of house, is 14 The Parapet, known as The Cheong House.

Wood, wood glorious wood

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Fri, 10 May 2013 03:31:00 +0000

Another take on wood, not in Turret Reserve but in Corteile Reserve and Tower Reserve.
Stylish and in keeping with the ambience and ethos of the 'founding fathers' of Castlecrag, these public benches are scattered throughout the suburb. As one whose father imbued within her a love of, and respect for, timber in all its guises, my heart gives a wee flip each time I stumble upon another place to rest these weary bones.

Timber along the Turret

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Thu, 09 May 2013 05:01:00 +0000

Wood is so much more attractive in its natural state, even if that be a stark, grey, brittle skeleton against a stormy sky.

An allotment past its priime

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Wed, 08 May 2013 11:16:00 +0000

With visions of yours truly in the role of Miss Marple floating before my eyes, I peered between the overgrown hedges into a tired, and very blousy allotment. Here in the land downunder, we don't call them an allotment, but a community garden. Not that this was either, actually. It is just that the block of land slopes so terribly that the backgarden is level with the roof of the house below. And, you know what they say: 'out of sight is out of mind'.

This though is perfect for a joint garden between neighbours, except for that ownership thing that we have in this country for real-estate. And heaven help anyone who sets a toe across a neighbour's boundary. Shame that the communal ownership of our indigenous citizens is not more popular. This had a great pumpkin vine among the weeds. And an orange tree heavy with fruit. A lemon likewise. Plus two lime trees similarly weighed down. Do you know that I bought six lemons this afternoon, and each lemon cost me 98c.

Turret Reserve - lovelier the second time around

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Tue, 07 May 2013 11:37:00 +0000

The first time, entering from The Parapet, and heading towards the Turret Reserve, I was confronted by a wizening of the pathway, and felt uncomfortable, an intruder upon the privacy of others. But Castlecrag is not like that: it is riddled with walkways between, and behind, private property. Well-used walkways at that. After consulting my map, I realised that this particular laneway could also be entered from The Postern. So I set my compass, took a deep breath, and toddled off, poking my stick here-and-there to ensure a secure footing.

As I toddled, a sense of the struggle of the Australian environment was with me, cloaking my shoulders with bougainvillea and banksia from one side, and camellia and azalea from the other. This was no goat-track off into the bush, no bush-bashing required whatsoever. One almost expected a stile and hedgerow around each curve.

From The Postern, Turret Reserve was easier to locate.

I did walk down those steps, and out onto the flat rocked 'turret', watching my footing all the way. I looked out and down, and the drop was substantial, down to Warner's old dairy, now occupied by bowling clubs and playgrounds, out and across to the TCN9 transmission tower in Artarmon. The view and the muffled sounds were a delight. Would that my balance had permitted me to stay longer out there AND TAKE PHOTOGRAPHS.

Sprucing up a communal toilet, I kid you not

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Mon, 06 May 2013 00:17:00 +0000

Dead chooks and uncollected dunny cans were 'flushed' down Flat Rock Gully, during the Depression [the one that was labelled 'great' by some wag], from areas west known variously in those days as Dog Town, Pension Town and Struggle Town, but later known as Naremburn. Naremburn Falls cascaded 15m into 'the Devil's Hole' to the endless delight of the hordes of local urchins bored out of their brains. But pristine bush can not maintain the rage against human effluent and detritous, and the creek clogged, the falls were throttled, the area degraded into no more than the municipal dump.

Time moves on and, being 15 minutes from the CBD, the area gentrified, the toffs moving in, the strugglers displaced. And there is nothing a toff likes less than an eye-sore that compromises house values. The dump was closed, the Council spending hard-earned rate-payer dollars to renovate the gully into the public open space that it is today, with a thriving eco-system, and hordes of toffettes zipping the cycle-lanes on their Bottecchias and XDS Retros.

Dead Cow Gulch

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Sat, 04 May 2013 13:37:00 +0000

Way back in the '70s, I hiked through the New England Tablelands of NSW with a bunch of friends. It is a very beautiful area of Australian bush, but the stand-out memory is the rotting cow carcass. By instantly renaming the area to 'Dead Cow Gulch' we created for ourselves a short-hand nomenclature to last down the ages. Which brings me to Flat Rock Gully which from 1940 to 1985 was a municipal tip [or dump].

On the map, the area is split in two by Flat Rock Drive [we are nothing if not original!], with the left being Flat Rock Gully, and the right being Bicentennial Reserve, the location of Walter Burly Griffin's incinerator. The ash and debris from the incinerator was disposed of in the council tip. From 1998 to 2003 the tip was 'remodelled' into public reserve with walking and cycling tracks. This culvert goes under Flat Rock Drive and connects the reafforested reserve to the playing fields of Bicentennial Park.

We will take a wander through Flat Rock Gulch in my next post.

Grant House - 8 The Parapet

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Thu, 02 May 2013 12:30:00 +0000

Although financed by, and named after, the Melbourne theatre producer, Julius Grant, this house is more well-known as the residence of Walter Burley Griffin and Marion Mahoney Griffin, from 1925 until 1936. I showed you another shot of the front of this house during Theme Day.

As I clamber the paths and tracks of Griffin's original estate, it becomes increasingly clear, that the jungle is just itching to claim its own back. There is a massive dichotomy pervading the estate: maintain the vision; or, move with the times. One can see it in the houses, both their design and their maintenance. One can see it in the landscaping: run wild, or tame the savage beast. This is most evident at the rear of #8. A narrow access path down beside the garage leads to a fork. To the right, lies Turret Reserve. Straight ahead lies Lookout Reserve. Except thate the look no longer is 'out'. Houses have filled Griffin's blank canvas. The trees that Walter and Marion are thought to have personally planted at the rear of their home, have grown somewhat in 80+ years.

The rear of #8 has a charminly wild sense to it, backing onto the reserve as it does. But it is a tangled mass - not really mess. Perfect for climbing and chasing. Except I was there during school holiday time, and nary a child in sight. Lots of adults though: walking each other, walking a dog, jogging uphill.

Theme Day - The creative artisan

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 20:09:00 +0000

My creative artisan is one Walter Burley Griffin, an architect by profession, with a reputation built firmly upon the vision he and his wife, Marion, designed and drafted of Canberra in 1912, the Australian national capital. There is a lake in the heart of Canberra, named Lake Burley Griffin. He was born in 1876 near Chicago, and died in India in 1937.

Griffin is my fascination at the moment. I have just moved to a suburb of Sydney called Castlecrag, which Griffin developed from scratch starting in 1921. Griffin, his wife, Marion, and his business partner, Eric Milton Nicholls, designed dozens of houses for the estates, but only 15 were ever built. By them. These 15 are still in existence. I am introducing them gradually. Come on (beckoning). Sit down (gesturing). Listen to his tale (smiling).

View other contributions to this Theme Day from around the world.

Tell-tale mannerisms

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Mon, 29 Apr 2013 12:47:00 +0000

Painters sign their name in a corner of their canvas. Even Banksy signs his name on a brick on the laneway wall. The same goes with architects, I guess. Their stylistic quirks become a signature of sorts. Frank Lloyd Wright's work is recognisable, as is Gaudi's, as is Harry Seidler's. I am starting to realise the same can be said about Walter Burley Griffin.

How does one personalise an incinerator? WBG did it with his choice of building material, for starters. He loved the solid granite and less-solid sandstone of the Australian bush that is everywhere on the Castlecrag peninsula. However, there are two other signatures to this building. See the art-deco like design scattered around the building, the angular design. I can find that in his domestic work. See the narrow slits-for windows. That, too, is in his domestic work. Show you next post.

There is another shot of the incinerator that I did not realise I needed. Did not realise was THERE. I have to go back and get it. Will take me a coupla daze.

Reverberating sewage and garbage

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Sun, 28 Apr 2013 13:20:00 +0000

A reverberatory incinerator uses a vertical top gravity feed process. It was an Australian patented design by Essendon engineer John Boadle. It achieved much higher efficiency preheating and partly drying the refuse whilst it moved down a sloping, vibrating grate within the combustion chamber. The combustion chamber was designed to ‘reverberate’ heat on to the incoming refuse. The vertical top gravity feed process required incinerator buildings to be built on steeply sloping sites or embankments.

So, yes, in answer to Letty's query of yesterday, an incinerator for burning stuff, just not amputated legs! Household refuse and sanitation bins. As you can see from the clipping, there were NIMBYs in those days, too. Eventually these complaints became a crescendo and the incinerator was stopped in 1974. It was converted into a restaurant for a few years, then a set of offices for architects, then it remained empty for a decade. Then Willoughby Council came to the rescue, and voila, The Incinerator Art Space.

Burley Griffin and his incinerator fetish

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Sat, 27 Apr 2013 07:04:00 +0000

The Willoughby Incinerator was dedicated in September 1934 based upon a design by Griffin and his business partner, Eric Milton Nicholls. It now stands in Bicentennial Park, Willoughby [close to the leisure center], with the local council spending squillions to restore it to heritage standard as an art space. I will focus upon this building this week. Today I show you the roofline of the incinerator, and the lift to take folk like myself down to the exhibition space avoiding the rather steep, but safe enough, steps.

Why do I say 'fetish'? There is another municipal incinerator designed by WBG over in Glebe. When I google, I find that they designed and built 18 incinerators, 12 of them in Sydney, two of which are still standing. This one looks a bit like a crematorium, which figures. Show you tomorrow.

What do you think of Richard Goodwin's 2011 "Exoskeleton Lift"? Complements the incinerator - but the Art Space was open on ANZAC Day, whilst the lift was locked.

From his castle to his incinerator

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Fri, 26 Apr 2013 13:06:00 +0000

Something there is in me that is becoming less and less enamoured of ANZAC Day, its plastic sincerity, and overweening jingoism. But like Douglas and Wilde, this is a perfidy that dare not speak its name, lest I be stoned, and forever regarded as an inner-city latte-sipping leftie. So it was with heavy heart, but tripping feet, that I took my camera for a walk yesterday, not into the den of flowing amber that were the streets of the CBD, but along part of the Griffin Federation Track, through Northbridge down to Bicentennial Park, Willoughby, where stands the reverbrating incinerator that Walter Burley Griffin designed and built in 1934.

My camera leash was relaxed a little, and way allowed to lead onto way. On Sailors Bay Road, opposite the Shore playing fields, I loitered round a series of half-a-dozen shops, no doubt conceived and owned by bright young things with shiny degrees in modernity. They could, of course, be tax deductions for struggling consultants, but that would be unkind of me, not to say libelous. 'The Cookery Book' must surely be blemish-free.

The facade of the building is tawdry, and mangled above the awning, lacking respect and maintenance in equal portion. My interest was aroused by the 'Haron's Building' emblazoned across one wall. Had the 's' been chipped off? Who was Haron? Of course, Google came to the rescue being the repository of a wondrous number of half done family trees. Haron was one William Bede Haron, who entered upon this life in 1846 and departed it in 1926. Initially a drayman, he later became a builder.

Walkways and reserves - Turret Reserve

noreply@blogger.com (Julie) — Thu, 25 Apr 2013 12:32:00 +0000

As my knowledge of this fascinating area deepens, I realise that I should have presented things differently. But I guess the bumpy ride is in real-time. I have shown you Tower Reserve already, as I wanted to explain the derivation of the name, Castlecrag. The reserves and walkways were part of the plans originally drawn up by the Griffins for both the Castlecrag Estate and the Haven Estate. I have included the plan [c. Griffin Society] as a separate page, and given time and head-space, will note the location of each of the reserves. There are seven reserves in all, not including the Haven Amphitheatre which is in a category of its own:

Cortile Reserve
Turret Reserve
The Keep Reserve
Lookout Reserve
Tower Reserve
Oriel Reserve
Casement Reserve

The Turret Reserve I stumbled across by noticing a signpost between 12 and 14 The Parapet. Being a timid, law-abiding creature, it is confrontingly bold to just bowl down a 'sort of' track beside a house, just like any peeping-tom. I was given heart with this one by a jogger puffing up the track. Luckily, it burst into a full blown walkway of generous proportion part-way round, with glorious views. However, I was intimidated when the track narrowed again, and turned around BEFORE the glory of the 'turret' itself. So, shall make a point of entering from the other direction to get the reserve in all its glory. It was well used by joggers, and by dog walkers. And by people offering to help me ... but I must do it myself.